When Emma Got Sick
by KayJDance
Summary: A few weeks into their relationship Emma comes down with a virus and Jefferson takes it upon himself to care for her. Four-chapter Mad Swan mini-fic.
1. When Emma Was Stubborn

Semi (but not really) prompt mini-fic that basically stemmed from a question answered on the "Ask Mad Swan" Tumblr page. A few weeks into Emma and Jefferson's relationship, Emma comes down with a virus so Jefferson decides to take care of her but to keep Grace from getting sick he has her stay with Henry, Snow, and Charming in the apartment. This is will end up being four instances (chapters) from Emma's short stay in the mansion. Enjoy (and pardon the terribly uncreative name)! :D P.S. For those of you who read "Our Wonderland" do not fret, I have certainly not forgotten it; I have simply been working on this and been overly consumed with twenty bajillion other Mad Swan plot bunnies. I have started the next chapter for it and I promise I will never completely abandon that story! ;D

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**Chapter 1: When Emma Was Stubborn**

"Do you want some tea?" Jefferson asked from beside Emma.

"Yeah, I guess." Emma replied grimly, coughing in between each word and closing her tired eyes.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Jefferson swung his legs off the bed before brushing back a clump of Emma's knotted hair and kissing her forehead.

Emma groaned and slid further under the covers as Jefferson hurriedly made his way out of the guest room on the first floor, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. He swiftly pulled a clean teacup out of the cupboard and poured some water from the steaming kettle into a teapot. As soon as the tea was properly mixed in the pot he poured a sufficient amount in the teacup and speedily walked back to his room, all the while staying wary of the drink in his hands. Jefferson approached the door and began to slowly push it open; his eyes widened in surprise at the sight that was now in front of him.

Emma lay on her back, on the floor, two or so feet from the bed she had previously been lying soundly in. Her hands were clasped, the backs of them pressed to her forehead and elbows falling lazily to the sides of her face. Her legs were bent, her eyes closed tight, and her breathing heavy and labored. She didn't seem to be in any more stress or pain then she had been when he left her, so he was not too worried, and simply asked with raised eyebrows, "Emma, what in the world are you doing?"

Emma took a deep breath in and much to her dismay, a small coughing fit overcame her as she breathed it back out. "I was doing an experiment…"

Jefferson gestured for her continue as she took a dramatic pause and sniffled, asking, "And… you were testing whether or not the floor was more comfortable then the bed?"

"_And_ I was seeing if I could actually make it all the way across the room without passing out… Obviously, it was a failed test."

"Well hold on just a second," Jefferson rushed to the bedside table to set the teacup down, "I'll help you get back up on the bed."

Jefferson now was just about to reach down to help Emma when she slowly replied, "No, no. I'm fine. I'll get back up in a minute."

"You don't look like you're feeling all that 'fine'." Jefferson kneeled beside her and placed his palm on her clasped hands. "Please, just let me help you up. I'm just walking you a few feet, it's nothing."

"No. I said-I'm fine…" Emma sighed heavily, her breath raspy. "I just need a moment; that's it."

"Are you really too stubborn to let me walk you back to the bed? It's right there."

"I told you, I'm fine. Just give me a sec."

Jefferson heaved a sigh at his fruitless attempt to get his incredibly stubborn and too-proud girlfriend up off the floor. "Well fine, then I'll just wait down here with you until you get up, since you're 'fine' and all." He sat his back against the sheets hanging from the bed and stretched his legs out in front of him, within an inch of Emma. He crossed his arms and stared her down, incredulously.

Emma still felt way too dizzy for her liking and her legs were for sure going to give out on her if she tried standing again so she stayed sitting. Well not so much sitting as, lying down. She could feel Jefferson's gaze on her and knew he would sit there until she gave in and let him help her up but she held out anyways. She blinked her eyes open, hands still resting on her increasingly over heated forehead, and lazily let her head fall to the side to gaze back at Jefferson. "You don't have to stay sitting there; it isn't doing anything."

"But I thought you were fine and just needed a minute…?"

"I do… I'm just say—" A cough interrupted her argument and she brought one hand over her mouth. The one seemingly innocent cough led to yet another fit and she groaned angrily at this damn sickness that would not give her a break.

Jefferson sighed and the corners of his mouth turned down from his smug grin into a worried frown. "Emma come here; at least sit up some so you'll stop coughing so much." He uncrossed his arms to push himself across the floor towards Emma and stopped just past her head. He gingerly picked up the top half of her fragile form and placed it on his crossed legs.

Emma kept her eyes closed and sighed; she hated being treated like she was some sort of weak damsel. But she couldn't deny the feeling about being with Jefferson, having him take care of her, and just being right next to him, felt right. She settled into him and gave up, letting her arms fall to her sides.

Jefferson now felt the extreme heat of her fever radiating off of her neck and onto his legs. "Gods Emma, you are burning up!"

"Yes; I have a fever. And your point is?..." Emma opened her eyes now and tiredly looked up at him, from a rather odd angle in his lap. The new perspective made her head start to spin again causing her to groan and clasp her hands over her eyes as quickly as her fully drained of energy limbs allowed.

"Emma, come on. Let me get you back into bed."

"Well gee, you're a bit optimistic." Emma knew full well he had no intention of meaning it _that _way but she had spent the last two days sleeping, not talking or joking with anyone, and couldn't resist mocking his poor choice of words.

Jefferson's face scrunched questioningly at Emma, forgetting her fragile state for a moment to process what Emma meant by her remark. Once he realized what the quip implied he had meant he gulped and his eyes shot open in realization. He hurried to reply and correct his mistaken word choice. "No, no-I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you'd probably be more comfortable if you were—"

"Chill, I know." Emma brought her left hand up, to cover his mouth and quiet his embarrassed rambling, leaving her right hand still resting over her eyes and laughed, "I was just kidding."

Jefferson smiled against her palm then pursed his lips against it, kissing it. He brought up his right hand and slowly removed her clasp around his mouth by slipping his fingers between hers. As he brought their interlaced hands away from his face he kissed the back of her hand tenderly then brought their connected hands to rest on her stomach.

Emma let out a contented sigh just before she felt Jefferson shift to the left and start to snake his left arm around her legs and right arm behind her back, never letting their intertwined fingers unfold. She began to stir, taking her hand away from her closed eyes, twitched her tired legs, and began to open her eyes, ready to protest furiously, but he was too quick and had already gotten her off the ground and quieted her, "Sh, keep your eyes closed. You'll just get dizzy again."

Emma let out a frustrated growl which led into a flurry of coughs, seemingly not affecting Jefferson carrying her in the slightest. It only took a second for him to reach the bed and he slowly placed her tired form on top of the crumpled sheets. She relaxed into the bed and he began to untangle his fingers from her and pull away until her grip tightened. He smiled at her silent reluctance to let him go then pushed himself onto the bed and pulled her into his side.

He stared down at her, her eyes still shut and breathing labored. "You know, you can open your eyes now."

"I think it's probably best if I don't." Emma sniffled and took in a heavy breath before continuing, "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Taking care of me? Treating me like I'm so weak and dependent?

"Normally, you are far from either of those things but you're sick."

As if on cue, a cough caught in her throat causing Jefferson to bring her closer and start running his free hand up and down her arm. She groaned after it ceased, relaxing into the Jefferson's side and leaving her eyes closed. "I've been sick before and I'm still here today, aren't I?"

"Emma, let me get this straight… You're saying you don't want to be here, having me taking care of you?"

"The first part, I love; the second part, not so much."

"I really don't understand why it is _such _a bad thing to have someone take care of you…"

"It's not, necessarily, for some people… But I've always been fine on my own. I've been doing it myself for 28 years and…"

"And you're not used to it, I know. But you need to start getting used to it because I am going to take care of you. I would do anything for you. This-_this _right here; bringing you tea, carrying you to the bed, being with you, is the _least _I can do. I'm not just going to sit around and let you cough up a lung, not be able to walk or stand, suffer from a fever, or suffer at all for that matter if there's anything I can do about it. If I could cure you with some sort of magic or spell I would, but I can't so I'm doing what I can and you are just going to have to deal with it because I'm not going to let you suffer whether you think you are or not."

Jefferson's speech was met with silence and when he looked down to Emma he found she had now opened her eyes and was simply staring at him. Her expression was curious and her eyes looked to him filled with compassion, fear, trust, anticipation, surprise, and what was that? Love? No, it couldn't be! Jefferson processed her expression for a moment in the silence. "Too much?"

Emma stared a moment longer then shook her head, half to respond to his question and half to form at least a semblance of a decent response. "No, no." She blinked as Jefferson eyed her, waiting anxiously for a response. "It's just—thank you."

Jefferson let out a small breath he didn't know he had been holding in and smiled down at Emma endearingly. He figured any attempt to argue that no thanks were needed would only end in another dispute so replied simply. "You're welcome princess. Now, do you still want that tea? It's probably cold by now but I can get you some fresh if you'd like."

"No-" A cough interrupted her before she continued, "I'm not really thirsty anymore."

"Well in that case I think you should try to get some more sleep." Jefferson began to pull away in an attempt to be gentlemanly but Emma took her free hand and brought it to Jefferson's chest, stopping him and causing him to look to her questioningly.

"Please; stay." She smiled lightly causing him to smile warmly back and shift into his place next to her.

"Anything for you princess." He leaned down and kissed her chastely before pulling one of the disheveled sheets towards Emma and smoothing it over her as she closed her eyes. He happily watched her drift to sleep, perfectly content with just being there beside this glorious woman whom he knew he could not live without.


	2. When Emma Couldn't Stay Awake

_Wow, just wow! I am quite stunned and overjoyed to see the great response to this! =D I am so beyond glad many of you like it (and will hopefully continue to)! =] Those of you who have reviewed, followed, and favorited, are even more amazing and I just love y'all! I hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think, if you get the chance! :D_

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**Chapter 2: When Emma Couldn't Stay Awake (2 days later)**

Jefferson awoke with a stir and quickly dressed himself to go check on Emma. What he did not expect to find though was an empty bed. He quickly took in the expanse of the room then, after not noticing her anywhere within it, he paced to the bathroom to check there. He checked behind doors and curtains and finally called out her name. In response he heard a faint coughing so he followed the sound until he reached the living room and found Emma with her hands gripping the top of the couch and shoulders hunched over, coughing.

"Emma, what are you doing out here?" Jefferson moved to stand by her side and gently wrapped an arm around her.

After another moment the coughing ceased and she craned her neck to look up at him. "I woke up feeling better and decided to try another experiment. Turns out, this time it was a success." Emma shrugged her shoulders to look back down before testing her strength by slowly removing her hands from the couch. She got her hands all of four inches away from couch before her stance wavered and she was forced to grip it once again.

Jefferson reached down and laced his fingers through one of her hands. She looked to him and he gestured towards the couch. "Come on, sit down."

Emma sighed then removed her hands and leaned into his side as he began to walk her around to the other side of the couch. "How did you get out here? You can't even stand."

"The wall serves as a great crutch," Emma answered, rolling her eyes. Jefferson let Emma lower herself onto the couch and she curled her legs underneath her. He then slipped down next to her and pulled her up against his side. Jefferson nestled his chin onto her shoulder before giving her cheek a quick kiss. "So besides having enough strength to walk, at least with assistance, are you feeling better at all?"

"Coughing is the same, my nose not so much. I'm pretty sure my throat is fine now, but my head is still killing me."

Jefferson let his lips wander to the back of her neck, half for his own pleasure and half to check her temperature. "Your fever seems to have gone away."

Emma moaned and sank further into him, closing her eyes and wishing she could indulge him. "That it has."

Jefferson pulled back to let her lean her head into the crook of his neck and began running his hand up and down her side as he asked, "Are you hungry at all, do you want me to make you something for breakfast?"

"I'm still not really hungry." Her voice rasped and as she spoke she was on the verge of a coughing fit.

"Are you sure?... All you had yesterday was a piece of toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner."

"Exactly why I'm full." Emma made her sentences as short and simple as possible as to not set off a flurry of coughs.

"Since when does toast and spaghetti constitute a day's worth of meals?"

"Since I wasn't hungry."

"Emma," he gave her a smug look, "you normally eat four meals a day, twice the size of that; you're never not hungry. Please, just let me make you something. I'd like you to eat… if you don't your body will start to think you're starving it."

"It'd be a waste of food…"

"Not if you eat it."

"Told you, I'm not hungry."

"And _I _told you I would like you to eat something."

Emma groaned in defeat. Clearly, he was not giving up on this. "Fine. Make something; but I make no promise that I'll eat it." Dammit that was too long of a sentence. The last word caught in her throat and sent her into a fit of dry, wheezy coughs.

Jefferson ran his hand up and down her side at a quicker pace as he quieted her and whispered soothing words into her ear. Once the fit passed and Emma breathed normally again, well, as normal as it had gotten since her sickness started, Jefferson smiled and kissed her forehead. "So, what would you like to eat princess?"

"Nothing." Emma rolled her eyes and Jefferson simply gave her one of _those _looks. He was having none of her nonsense. She pulled back, looking upset at his unhappiness with her remark. "Alright, alright. I don't know… surprise me I guess."

"Will do. I'll be back in a few minutes." He gave her a light kiss before reluctantly sliding her off of him and pacing to the kitchen.

Emma stared off at the ceiling, bored. She pulled a blanket from the top of the couch and settled it around her. She began fiddling with the loose threads on it, letting her mind wander.

The blanket reminded her of Mary Marg— correction; _Snow_'s quilt back at the apartment. She wondered how Henry was doing and whether he missed her or not. He and Grace had visited the second day at Jefferson's house but she had been so groggy she barely remembered him even being there. She hoped he'd visit again soon, she missed him. And the apartment. And how it always smelled of Snow's lavender shampoo or warm hot chocolate and cinnamon. Her dry mouth watered at the sweet thought; hot chocolate _actually _sounded good right now. Jefferson had made her some the first day she stayed with him but the sickness messed with her taste buds and made it seem bitter so he started making her tea as a substitute. But yesterday, her taste had seemed, relatively, back to normal, so hot chocolate sounded heavenly right now. She opened her mouth to call out to Jefferson but instead of a small shout to the next room, the only thing that escaped her throat was a small squeak and a cough from the strain on her throat.

Ugh, really? Looks like her throat wasn't as healed as she thought it was. Of course! When she actually decided on something she wanted to eat this dumb sickness just _had _to interfere. She grunted and considered her options. She could try and croak out at least a word loud enough for Jefferson to hear. Or, she could just walk to the kitchen and tell him herself. She had walked all the way out here this morning so the kitchen that was only fifteen or so feet away shouldn't be too much of an ask. She decided on the latter and began to shift her legs over the edge of the couch. It took a lot out of her but she pushed herself to her feet, leaning one hand on the arm of the couch. After a moment she hesitantly lifted it off, letting it hover just a few inches of above the couch in case she fell back, and steadied herself.

She then pulled both hands all the way up and looked around, impressed. Good, this was good. She was standing, and on her own nonetheless. She took slow, wary steps around the coffee table and eventually ended up standing by the end of the couch closest to the kitchen. As a precaution she allowed one hand to rest on the back of the couch as she shuffled her feet towards the kitchen. She made a quick pass from the back of the couch to the wall that held the kitchen behind it, making her head start to spin. But she was halfway there already and certainly not about to give up now. She continued her journey, now leaning her weight on the wall, then finally reached the edge of the wall and rounded it into the dining room, connected to the kitchen.

She found Jefferson making scrambled eggs over the stove with his back facing her. She noticed a plate of toast just beside the stove and a measuring cup filled with pancake batter on the island's lower countertop as she made her way further into their kitchen.

She settled herself to lean against the island counter as she finally spoke, "Hey Jeff-" her sentence was cut off by Jefferson gasping and jumping so bad he nearly flipped the eggs out of the kitchen. Luckily, only a few small bits of egg flew out of the pan as his body instinctively flicked his wrist holding the spatula.

He turned and let out a heavy breath, holding his hand over his fast-beating heart.

"Sorry," she apologized, looking shyly over to his distressed form. Unlike the many times when she was healthy and had intentionally snuck up on him to scare him, when she stayed at his house, this time she really hadn't meant to freak him out.

He quickly calmed his breath then began to notice his sick girlfriend looking worriedly at him from her perch next to the island. His eyes widened with surprise and worry, given that she was still weak from sickness and needed to support to stand so she certainly shouldn't have wasted her energy walking in there. "Emma, why you in here?"

As Jefferson released his grip on the side of the counter and paced over to her, Emma answered in a low, raspy voice, "I just came to tell you I actually thought of something I wanted."

Jefferson reached where she stood then snaked his arms around her waist to pull her towards him and allow her to lean her weight on him. He looked down to her, still worried that she expended too much energy on her trip to the kitchen and asked, "You couldn't have just told me from the living room?"

"I tried… I opened my mouth to yell but nothing came out."

Jefferson let out a small chuckle and smiled, "You couldn't have just waited for me to come back?"

"But I _really _wanted it," Emma pouted between a flurry of small coughs.

"Alright, well sit down and tell me what you want." He walked her a few feet to the back of the island counter and helped herself settle onto one of the tall chairs that sat behind it.

Emma bent her arm and leaned onto the countertop to rest her head in her hand. "One hot chocolate with cinnamon please."

She mustered a small smile and Jefferson smiled back before kissing her lightly. "I should have guessed."

Jefferson rushed to finish the scrambled eggs then began preparing a steaming cup of hot chocolate, all the while sending glances back to his sick girlfriend watching him from over the countertop. She sat with her arms folded and head resting to the side, on top of them, mustering a smile as best as she could. After about five minutes Jefferson handed a steaming cup of hot chocolate to Emma with a smile. Emma blew on it lightly before hesitantly taking a small sip.

"How is it?" Jefferson asked from the seat beside her, hopeful.

She closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the sweet aroma with a smile. "Perfect." She opened her eyes, still smiling, and mused, "Thank you."

"You're welcome princess." Jefferson's lips pulled into a wide grin, glad to see such a full smile returned to his girlfriend. It was that smile that simply made Emma melt and boy was she glad she was sitting right now, because that smile on top of her already sickness-weakened body would have probably had her collapsed on the floor.

Jefferson pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before questioning, "Should I still finish breakfast?"

Emma shrugged and sniffled, her smile fading as his lips retreated from where they left warmth on her skin. "Sure."

Emma continued slowly, occasionally taking small sips from her mug as she rested her head into the crook of one elbow. Her eyelids were heavy and she tried with a valiant effort to blink away the overwhelming tiredness. In between sips a cough would catch in her throat, always causing Jefferson to worriedly look back to her but she would always dismiss him with a small wave of her hand. Jefferson hastily worked to finish their meal, not wanting to leave Emma bored and alone for too long, but by the time he finally finished and turned all the way back around to his girlfriend with two plates full of food he found her eyes closed and head resting on her arm in a light slumber. Her one hand still held her mug and her mouth was left slightly ajar to allow for her breath to escape from her lips instead of her currently stuffed nose.

Jefferson smiled and let out a small chuckle. He should have suspected after all the energy she had exerted walking around this morning that she couldn't stay awake for long. He put the plates back down on the counter and tip-toed his way around the island before slowly prying her thin fingers off of her mug. Luckily, she didn't stir even as he looped an arm around her back and the other under her knees. He lifted her fragile form from the chair and crossed the small distance between the kitchen and the living room before settling her onto the couch. He rested her head onto a small bed of pillows and tucked a plush blanket around her. He softly brushed her hair from her face before his hand lightly traced the outline of her face and he cupped her cheek to press a small kiss on her furrowed brow. He reluctantly pulled his hand back as she stirred, pulling the blanker around her tighter and shifting to tuck her knees closer to her.

He quickly made his way back to the kitchen to put the plates of breakfast to wait in the microwave, just in case she woke up hungry later, and then returned to the living room. He settled himself into the corner of the couch closest to where head lay and ran his fingers through a few loose strands of hair spilling around her.

Often, a cough would rack her in her sleep and there was little he could to help her besides running his hand gingerly along her side and whispering gentle words into her ear. He hated seeing her like this because the savior, _his _savior, was so much more than a sick, weakened person able to do nothing more than shuffle around the house and lie on the couch.

This small act of comfort and kindness was so minuscule in his eyes but to Emma it meant everything and with every kiss and soothing word whispered to her she felt herself become better. Whether it was all in her head or not, this made her better, _he _made her better.

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_I hope you liked this chapter just as much as the last and of course, thank you for your continued support! I love any and all readers of my stories and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to read my work! :D Another update should likely come in the next few weeks so try not to hold your breath (sorry I'm busy and also have another story to update as well)! _


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